


Chess Pieces

by petdragonfly



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Clintasha - Freeform, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, maybe smut soon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:46:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petdragonfly/pseuds/petdragonfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Found a prompt on Tumblr that had to use this phrase: "The nail polish on her right index finger was chipped." Clintasha came out of it and asdjfklwer;gbsja</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not know who started this prompt! Please let me give you credit.

The nail polish on her right index finger was chipped. 

Natasha drags her upper teeth across her bottom lip, aware that what has happened is wrong. 

Clint stares down at her, unflinching. 

She turns her head upward, just as he turns away. 

The broken strings they play fall to the ground. It hits them like a ton of bricks. 

Clint breathes in sharply and pulls away from the bed and into the bathroom, swearing slightly under his breathe. Natasha clutches the covers around her and realizes the mistake that she’s made and how she can never fix it if she stays in this mindset.

Clint comes out of the bathroom fully dressed and looks back once at her. Natasha looks up at him. He clears his throat. It’s never been awkward between them, but after those untrusting words left his mouth, she couldn’t remember how to be natural around him. He turns toward the door and leaves before she can say anything, and only then can Natasha feel a stab of sadness washing through her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How it started out.

It started out with a harmless invitation for a drink. They had come back after Rome with deeper scars and blood that could be felt long after it was washed off. Natasha had locked herself in her apartment for two whole weeks, not coming out for anything, except to let Clint in with groceries. 

“Why do you keep doing this?” Natasha says as she opens the door to find her partner for the third time that week in a black sweatshirt and running shorts. She resists from biting her lip at the sight.

“I’m your partner. I’m supposed to pick you up when you’re in pieces. That’s why I’m here.” He gives her a grin, even though she could see the strain. He never really did stop trying.

“I’m a big girl. I don’t need to get picked up.” Natasha steps back to let him in. He pretends he hasn’t heard her and busies himself with rearranging her kitchen and putting everything where it belonged. Natasha picks out a bag of chips (her favorite kind) out of the bag and stares at Clint from as many angles she can without him noticing. 

“So, what’s on your mind.” Clint turns around before Natasha can find something to do. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from blushing.

“Nothing.”

“That’s such a lie. You were staring at me for like, ten minutes just now.”

“Was not.”

“Whatever you say.” He chuckles and turns back around.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Natasha realizes he’s been washing the dishes that had been piling in her sink, which she had tried to ignore. 

“If you haven’t noticed, sweetheart, you’re kind of a mess since the mission. You haven’t been answering any of SHIELD’s calls and Fury’s been acting like an overprotective parent. Coulson wanted to even check in, and you know how he is. We’re all kind of worried.” Clint leans against the kitchen countertop and faces Natasha. Her composure breaks for just a second when he mentions the mission and her barrier crashes. She looks at the ground and covers her face. Clint softens at that sight. 

“Oh God, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to…shit, I didn’t mean to remind you of that. I just…we’re all concerned.” He rushes over to her and gently puts his arms around her. Her sobs quiet and she looks up at him.

“It’s not fair for…for so many innocent….I…I’m….it’s all coming back and I shouldn’t be this—“

“Shh. I’m not going to tell anyone that the famous Black Widow has emotions. It’s okay.” Her eyes meet his, and the message is clear: she trusts him. It’s the first concrete evidence Clint has gotten in their three year partnership that she actually has complete faith in him, and not just in their line of field. 

It comforts both of them, knowing the other is there when one of them falls. He brushes back a lock of her hair.

“How about we go get a drink somewhere? Just the two of us, just something, you know, simple.” She nods.

And in that moment, it’s just Clint and Natasha walking hand in hand out the door, not Hawkeye and Black Widow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're at the bar and this is a build up to smut in the next chapter. I love fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter made me sqeee like the girl I am and it's pure fluff. Thank you for reading!

“So, what was different this time?” Clint lifts his beer up to his lips and takes a long sip. Natasha had finished telling him about how this mission might’ve been like the others, but felt like there were too many innocent lives lost. He saw she was hiding something else. She took a deep breath.

“There was this girl. Couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. She…” Natasha trails off and Clint understands. He nods and beckons her to go on. 

“I saw her die, Clint. I promised her I would help her and I couldn’t. I know you’re going to say it’s not my fault, but I bear all the responsibility. I like to keep my promises.” She plays with the ice in her empty glass idly, not turning towards Clint. She stares blankly in front of her. “And I can’t get her face out of my head, Clint.”

“Tash…” Clint moves his bar stool closer to her. 

“You have to know you’re probably the strongest person I know. You don’t need this wall, or whatever this is, to hide your feelings. I know that may never happen, but I just…you have to know that I’d do anything for you. I meant, no, yes I would, but I would never want to push to do anything you didn’t…I didn’t mean to…” He puts his head in his hands, because he is Clint Barton and Clint Barton does not stumble over his words. Clint Barton has always been a smooth talker, but sometimes he loses the ability to even speak around Natasha Romanov.

Natasha finds both his smooth talk and stumbling appealing. She smiles softly at his endearing mortification and turns her body towards him.

Natasha lifts Clint out of his embarrassment with a kiss. It’s hesitant at first, but turns sweet, slow, and passionate. 

To Natasha, it feels like hope and safety. To Clint, the kiss releases years of tension and loneliness. The kiss lasts over 30 seconds, neither of them daring to breathe, not daring to ruin that moment.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some smut. I tried, I really did.

Natasha Romanov never had the chance to be a teenager, never had the chance to make out in the back of a car, never got to actually feel the exhilaration of getting caught. 

She had watched a handful of 80s teen movies and always felt a tinge of sadness, knowing she’d never be able to live those simple pleasures. But in the back of Clint’s borrowed pickup truck, she felt every one of those coming true. 

Until she hit her head off the roof of his car.

\--- 

“I told you that would happen.” They had gone back to Clint’s car and Natasha hit her head on the roof of Clint’s car during a particularly intense grind and lip lock session. To Clint’s credit, he had warned her that it wasn’t going to be like those movies she’d seen. 

“It’s not like it hurt.” Natasha rubs the back of her head gently and Clint replaces her hand with his.

“I know. You just won’t admit that I was right.” His mouth turns into a smile. She smiles back sweetly, but she’s determined to wipe that grin off his face. She presses her lips to his mouth and a gasp escapes from his mouth. Her hand slides down to his jeans, and shit, she’s not called the Black Widow for nothing. Clint’s right hand finds its way down her shirt and he’s careful not to rip that lace bra right off her. 

Just as clothes were going to be discarded, there’s a tap on the window and they quickly jump apart, hair messed up and bodies tingling. As Clint turns red from embarrassment and tries to explain the situation, Natasha smiles inside, realizing that she might actually love that asshole.   
\---

Later, in Natasha’s bed, they laugh about the bar owner telling them that it “wasn’t the time nor the place” to be doing such “lewd acts”.

He opens a bottle of his best vodka (“You actually like this stuff?”) and pours it all over her body. He flicks his tongue over her nipples and clit, savoring every sound that came from her mouth. 

Kisses of adoration are traced into each crevice of their bodies. Natasha gently bites down on Clint’s earlobe, and a growl escapes from him. Her mouth finds its way back to his, her tongue darting in and out, teasing him, sending him over the edge, and manages to still have one hand on his crotch. He flips her over as gently as he possibly can, because Jesus, he's about to come. 

“Fuck, Clint.” He thrusts into her slowly, passionately, and he forgets about how much of a douche he had been. He forgets about every single woman he had ever pleasured, forgets that Natasha is still broken inside, and says what’s been on the tip of his tongue for years.

“I love you. God, Tash, I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know if you enjoyed/hated this! This was my first time writing anything this graphic and I would love to hear some feedback. Thanks so much :)


End file.
